A New Addition
by Something Dangerous
Summary: When Jetta moves to New York City from Montana after a tradedy strikes her family, it seems like a recipe for disaster. That is, until she meets a certain albino lephrechaun.
1. First Day

_Ok, I just realized that there wasn't a whole lot under this category, & since Kiki Strike is one of my favorite books _ever_ I thought I should write a fan fiction for it. This occurs after the 2__nd__ book._

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Kiki Strike or any of its characters, though I do bear a striking resemblance to Ananka._

Isat in my room and looked out the window. You could hear a car honk on the street below. The stoplight at the intersection outside my apartment building bathed in interchanging red and green as I sat there, trying not to think, because then I might cry. Now, as a general rule I'm not much of a crier, but today was just not my day.

Up until two months ago, I had lived my whole life in Montana on a small ranch. I had a bedroom with a window seat. My favorite place on the whole world was our farm. I would spend the days outside, reading in my mom's flower garden or riding my horse, Mirabella, as far as I could. In the summer, I swam and got a tan and in the winter I skied and drank hot coco by the fireplace in my living room. My mom home schooled me and my little brother Jeremy. It was beautiful, and it was safe to say that for the first thirteen years of my life, I was fairly happy. Then that all changed.

February 16th of last year, she went to the doctor for a routine check up and came home with some startling news: she had cancer. Even worse, it hadn't been detected soon enough; the doctor gave her four months too live. I was lucky enough too get six, but still, it was the hardest thing I had ever done to say good bye.

After she was gone, my dad started doing poorly. He didn't show up for work, instead spending his days locked up in his study, where I'm sure he drank away his troubles. He became more and more distant, until I'm not even sure I recognized him. One day, when I came home from a ride, I found him asleep on the couch, a half- empty bottle of brandy in his hand. He had stayed home again. I gently pried the bottle from his hand, trying to not wake him. It worked, but my victory was short lived. That night, my dad surprised both me and Jeremy, my brother, by setting down at the dinner table and grabbing a bowl of the soup I had made. We stared at him, wary. What could this mean? He didn't keep us in suspense for long. "Listen, I know I haven't exactly been there for you." I didn't say anything. I couldn't. "I've been going through some rough times ever since, ever since she… Anyways, I want to thank for how good and how patient you've been." I sat frozen, still waiting what was he trying to say? "And I think it's because this place reminds me so much of her, I just can't take it. So what I'm trying to say is," he took a deep breath as if trying to steady himself and I knew it would be bad, "we're moving." I was wrong; it was worse. I couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. My vision was tilting from the shock. But as soon as I got my breathe back, I launched a full scale complaint. I didn't want to leave my friends, my horse, my home. But that didn't seem to matter. It was obvious that no matter what Jeremy or I said, we were going.

Six months later here we were, in New York City, home to all things, noisy, busy and filthy. I knew as soon as we got here that I hated it. Our apartment was dingy and cramped and I have to share a room with Jeremy, despite my protests that I was a growing teenager and needed my space. Whenever I went outside I had to watch out for dog piles and people on bikes. It was the opposite of Montana.

Even worse was that today was my first day of school. I'd be going to the Atalanta School for girls, which was supposed to be really prestigious. Why they were letting me in was totally beyond me. I mean, why they would want someone like me? But apparently, I was pretty smart. Go figure. I was nervous as could be. What would I wear, what would I say? I eventually decided that I should go casual; slipping on a short sleeved plaid shirt, loose jeans, and my cowboy boots. I grabbed my new messenger bag and headed to the subway. Thankfully, it was a fairly warm day and I could feel the sun on my face. Jeremy and I walked together to the subway, which we would take to school. Jeremy went to Addams Elementary, starting the fifth grade. We took different trains, though, so this was where we parted. It as the first time I could remember us being apart during the day. As we stood on the platform, Jeremy's train pulled into the station, but he didn't make a move to it. "Okay," I said. He was obviously nervous and I felt I should say something, "I know this is going to be strange and different, but when you get home I want you to tell me S.R.C. ok?" S.R.C. was something Mom had taught us. It meant Something Really Cool and we used to say one every day before we went to bed. It could have been seeing the first robin of the year, or catching a grasshopper reading a new book.

"Ok," he agreed. Then he looked up at me. My little brother was always so quiet and smart and I was worried about him. Would he be alright on his own? As if he heard me unasked question, Jeremy added. "Will I be okay? What if they don't like me?"

I wasn't so sure, but I couldn't let him know that. "What's not to like, sport?" I asked, rubbing his hair affectionately. "Now you better go or you'll miss your train." He nodded and ran off, slinging his backpack on over his shoulders. I didn't have long to worry about him, though, because five minutes later my train came in and I had to focus on getting to school in one piece.

A miracle must have occurred, because I got to school on time and was sitting in my first class with time to spare. I looked around, there didn't seem to be that many people here yet. Hmm.

"Are you new here?" I turn around, surprised. There's a girl sitting behind me. She's wearing a plain blue T shirt and a pair of jeans that seem a bit too worn.

"Um, yeah. What was your first clue?" I seem surprised that the girl had picked me apart. Did I look that different?

"Well, first of all, everyone knows everyone here, so it' obvious when there's a new girl." I let out a breath I wasn't aware I had been holding. _Maybe I don't look that different_. "Plus, anyone would be able to tell by your clothes." _Then again..._ So," continued the girl, oblivious to the way her words affected me, "You're scholarship, right?"

"What?" I was confused. What did she mean by that?

"Scholarship Girls are the ones here on tuition; Rich Girls are the ones who are here on _their_ money."

"Oh, yeah, I'm a Scholarship Girl," the label sounded strange on my tongue. Why couldn't people just be people? I asked as much and the girl just chuckled.

"You sure are a piece of work. My name's Gabriella, but everyone calls me Gab. Stick with me and you'll be okay."

I nodded. Maybe fitting in wouldn't be so hard (in spite of my apparent fashion mistake.) The bell rang and kids filtered in. I got out my textbook and sat there, hoping that the work wouldn't be too hard. The teacher walked in and looked at a piece of paper and then looked up. She walked to the front, but instead of starting the lesson, she looked straight a me. "Class, we have a new student. She just moved here from Montana. Why don't you stand up, dear?" I slowly do so. Every eye in the room is on me. I can feel myself blushing and some girls in the back are giggling. Why do I have to go through this? "What's your name?"

I sighed and stood up, trying to smile, despite the situation. "Jetta."

"Ok, you can sit now. We're going to get to work. Everyone take out your books and open to page 993."

_Ok, that's Ch 1. I know it doesn't include much about Kiki Strike, yet, but I'm planning to add more in Ch 2. I just felt that I should add some background information on Jetta. So please R&R, even if it's just to tell me that my story sucks._


	2. Mystery Girl

**Hey, so here's the second Chapter of A New Addition (finally, right? HS keeps you so busy.) I'm not going to give too much away, but I will tell you that we will meet the Irregulars shortly in the most unexpected of ways. So, I'm going to shut up and let you get to reading as soon as I take care of some things. First, I'd like to thank everyone who replied to this; you're awesome! Second, please R&R so that I can know what to write next. Last, I don't own the Irregulars. Could you imagine all the banks you could rob with a group of delinquent teenaged chicks, though?**

I spent the rest of that morning in a whirlwind of classes, textbooks, secret notes, and faces. I finished with first hour and went to second. I didn't have that class with Gabriela, unfortunately, so I didn't know anyone. But it passed by quickly enough and soon I was on my way to third hour Algebra 2. There's only one problem: I had no idea where to go. I went to my locker, got my stuff, and spent the next three minutes examining the miniature map I was given before finally turning to a girl who was passing by. "Hi," I said, "Do you think you could give me directions."

The girl took one look at me and her delicate nose wrinkled in disdain. "You're that new girl, aren't you? The scholarship student? Well, you sure do look like a farm hick. And what kind of an accent is that? Why, it's worse than anything I've ever heard."

Now, I'm not a hot head or anything, but this girl is making me mad. "Who exactly do you think you are?" I demand, painfully aware of the thickness of my voice, my _accent_, as I grow more and more upset.

"Me?" she demands surprised. "I am Michelle Mynsky, daughter of the famous physiologist. And you are just a scholarship student who wouldn't be able to come here without my money."

Well, now that you mention it, she did look like one of the rich ones, but still, where does she think she gets off, talking to me like a piece of trash. "I don't give a crap if you're the queen of Sheba, you can't-" Just then, I'm cut off by this girl grabbing my arm. I turned around in surprise. She is middle height, got brown hair and nice clothes. I think she's one of those rich girls too. So what is she doing?

"Hey, Michelle, I see you've met Jetta," she commented cordially.

Michelle seems just as if not more shocked as I am. "Oh, hey Ananka. Do you two know each other?"

The girl, Ananka, smiles. "Oh, yeah, we're just great friends. But now I've got to get Jetta to class. I think she's just a bit lost and none of us want to be late." With that she took off down the hallway, towing me behind. Once we are around the corner she turned around and faced me. "One rule: don't talk to rich girls. Don't sit by them don't look at them. It's suicide. And Algebra 2 is down that hall to the right, second door on your left." With that she spun on her heel and started walking away. Now anyone else would have thought this girl was mad as heck, judging from the look she gave me, about having to save my butt. But I could tell it was just an act, underneath, she was secretly pleased, excited about something. There was a little repressed smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I know you're not really mad. I could see it in your face. What are you all happy over?" Ananka didn't answer, but her shoulders shook slightly, as if she was trying to suppress laughter. I tucked the memo into the back of my mind and hurried to algebra, sliding into my seat just as the bell started to ring. My mind was reeling as Mr. Donaldson started talking about graphing equations in the XY form, something I had learned long ago. Who was this girl and why was she helping me? And anyways, how did she know my name or where I was going?

I spent the time until lunch mulling over these questions, but soon the bell rang for my lunch and I was no closer to figuring it out. I was so busy thinking about the mystery girl that I forgot to pay attention to what time it was and by the time I got to the cafeteria, the line was stretching into the hallway. _Crap! _The very thought of so many people boggled my mind. So I turned around and started to walk towards the back of the line when I heard a voice calling my name. I looked up, and there was Gab, several people ahead. "Jetta!" she called again, waving. I hurried forward and got in the spot she was holding for me in line, ignoring the protests from the girls around us. So, for several minutes I stood in line. Gab, true to her name, hadn't stopped talking since I joined her, so I started tuning out and looked around the crowded cafeteria. My eyes caught as I was scanning the room. Over there, was it? Yes. It was Ananka, the mystery girl who'd saved me. She was sitting at a table in the middle of the place, surrounded by a gaggle of girls of the more popular variety, including the little monster that had refused to give me directions earlier that day. But, even though people were talking to her and she was responding, she seemed detached, bored. Her expression surprised me almost as much as it had earlier. If these were her friends, then why wasn't she enjoying herself? "Hey, Jet, are you even listening to me?" My thoughts were interrupted by none other than Gabriela Hawthorne.

She had stopped her continuous babble to give me a wounded, questioning look. "Yeah," I said. "You were talking about your boyfriend forgetting your one month anniversary. I personally think you should tell him to suck it." Judging by the smile on Gab's face, I probably said just what she wanted to hear.

"I know, right?"

I took advantage of the sudden and rare lull in conversation to ask her a question. "Who's that girl over there?" I asked, gesturing towards the mystery girl.

"Oh, her?" asked Gab, her face barely masking scorn. "That's Ananka Fishbein."

"Is she a scholarship or rich girl?" I asked, surprising myself. What was this place doing to me?

"Nobody really knows. You see, her grandpa struck gold inventing something or another, so she should be ultra rich. But apparently he had something against money or something, because he took all his money and put into a scholarship fund so it can only be used for school. So she has the money to come here, but not enough to do anything else."

"But she seems really well off."

"Yeah, that's the weird apart. Apparently, she made some money of her own a little over a year ago. I mean a _lot _of money. Like thousands. So now she's more of a rich girl, she just doesn't act like one."

"She sure doesn't," I agreed, remembering how she saved me from social doom. Then I remembered the look on Gab's face when I first mentioned Ananka. "But you don't like her?"

"She's ok, I guess. She just seems so… so distant; like she's too good to talk to anyone. This took me by surprise. She'd seemed the opposite of distant when talking to me. Then again, judging by her expression now, it could've been a different girl than this morning.

"What do you want?" asked a voice, interrupting my silent reverie. I looked up to see a large cafeteria lady glaring at me, ladle at the ready. "Well?"

"What do I want?" I asked, slightly surprised. At home the options had always been take it or leave it.

"For lunch?" Gab prompted me, faithfully at my side.

"Oh, yeah. How about the spaghetti please?" the lady gave me a large portion of spaghetti and I moved on, grab my milk and breadstick, and leave the line. I looked around the cafeteria trying to decide where to sit. I was calculating the risks of sitting by Ananka when Gab started calling out from a table not to far away. "Jet, over here!" So I heaved a sigh and went to sit by her. "Hey, Jet," she said as I approached, this is the crew. There's Molly, the twins, Brittany and Tiffany, and Hannah, spelt with two Hs. Everyone, this is Jetta, here from Montana." I look around at the other girls as she's talking. Molly had long, straight black hair and big brown eyes, Brittany and Tiffany had blond hair falling in perfect ringlets, and were down right supermodel gorgeous, and Hannah had hair died so blond it was almost white, with pink highlights and a sprinkle of brown freckles across the bridge of her nose. "Stick with us and you'll be just fine," Gab asserted. So, we made it through lunch, talking, eating, and all sorts of stuff. But mostly I kept an eye on Ananka. She didn't change much, until about ten minutes until lunch was over. She started and reached into her purse, secretly pulling out a cell phone. She looked at the screen for a moment, returned the phone, said something to one of her friends, and quickly made for the exit. Unfortunately, I chose that exact moment to get up to throw away my tray, so she and I collided. Well, more accurately, she and my butt collided.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"No problem," she answered, looking deep in thought, like she was concentrating on something. Then, the look was gone and so was she.

I started to sit down and heard a rustling sound in my back pocket that definitely had not been there before. "Hey," I said, turning back to Gab and the others and getting up, "I'll be right back." Without waiting for an answer I threw out my trash and went to the restroom. I snuck into the last stall and reached into my pocket. My hand pulled out a piece of paper, folded over. I carefully unfolded and read the note. On it was one sentence:

_Meet me the Café de Amiss B4 School tomorrow. _It was signed simply with an A


End file.
